


Nine Ways Donna Noble Had a Fantastic Life

by ChristinaK



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, Spoilers for Episode: s04e13 Journey's End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 07:05:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4170576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristinaK/pseuds/ChristinaK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nine lives that Donna could've had, that did not involve gifted lottery tickets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The List, 2015

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to te_nom_sum on Livejournal for massive amounts of encouragement; this fic first appeared there in 2008. Still largely un-beta'd, a flash-reaction to "Journey's End."

TO: Steering Committee@copper.com  
FROM: D.Noble@copper.com  
DATE: October 13, 2015  
RE: THANKS! You *sods*

Just got back from Stockholm, and found this in the server. I can't believe you all managed to keep that a secret for six months! Even with me being off-planet! Who hid the nomination lists from me so I wouldn't hear about this until the banquet? Who told everyone on the committee not to tell me? Whoever it is, oi! I am telling MI-6 on you for extraordinary sneakiness in the face of Donna Noble! 

All this on top of the best membership year ever, and the treaty with the Silurians, and getting to visit to the Lunar Station.... If you asked me ten years ago if I'd be where I am now, I'd have thought you mad. 

I love being mad! 

You know what? I talk a lot to keep us going, but I really believe we're going to fulfill our mission statement before the end of the decade, and have the funding for that colony on Mars, as well as transport out of the solar system. When extraterrestrials we can be friends with finally bother to show up, we're going to be ready!

And I love you blokes too. Best friends on any planet.

Donna

_Donna Noble, Senior Coordinator_  
Public Relations, Funding and Outreach  
The Copper Foundation

\- - - - - - - - - -  
>The 2015 Nobel Committee  
>is pleased to announce this year's winners:  
>  
>For contributions to the field of Literature: Margaret Atwood, Canada  
>For contributions to the field of Physics: Dr. Winifred Burkle, USA  
>For contributions to the field of Chemistry: Dr. Petrov Boganavich, Lithuania  
>For contributions to the field of Economics: Former President Josiah Bartlet, USA  
>  
>And the Medal for Peace: Donna Noble, England, the Copper Foundation


	2. Outside of Rome, 2014

"DONNA!" A bellow from the east side of the dig had Donna putting down her catalog list in the tent, then rolling her eyes and stomping across the plain, past several amused excavators. 

"DONNNNNNNAAAA!"

" _Wot?_ Dr. Kalas, we bought you that walkie-talkie for a reason, why won't you ever use it?" Donna stopped at the top of the trench, folding her arms as she glared down at her boss. "If you've broken or sprained something else, it's back to the staging area for you, bub." 

"No! Look! Look! You were right! Look--" And then Dr. Kalas dissolved into a spate of arm-waving and Greek that Donna didn't bother to try to translate; she was already climbing down into the latest hole to see what had been found. 

There, inset into the wall that Dr. Kalas and Spiros had been carefully uncovering for weeks, were the carvings she'd been hoping they'd find. The ones referred to in the notes she'd helped him translate three years ago in Rome. The altar to the household gods of the family Quintus Caecilius.

"Oh, my, goddess." She beamed at the stone bais-relief, and slapped a hand on Spiros' shoulder. "You owe me a pint!" 

"I owe you a pint, an apology, and a credit on the article we'll write," Spiros said, brushing a kiss on her cheek. "The Lady and the Healer. You were right." 

"I so was! Ha!" Donna leaned forward, barely daring to breathe on the carvings. There, a woman in Roman dress, holding up one side of the temple carving, in the same position of authority and respect as the man on the opposite side, with a miniature temple in between them. She tilted her head. "He looks odd. What costuming is that? That's not Roman. Oi! I won my side-bet! He's a barbarian! Woooo!"

"There'll be no living with her now," Spiros muttered under his breath to the head of the dig. Dr. Kalas ignored him, already photographing the sculpture. 

"You have enough to publish now, Donna. The Institute will have to extend your grant on trickster mythology research." Dr. Kalas reached up to pat her on the head, which earned him an amused smile. "Congratulations, my dear. Wonderful day. Wonderful." 

"Gods bless Quintus Caecilius and his devotion to his family," Donna said, punching the air. "And the gods that protected him. Woo!"


	3. BBC Radio 4, CHAIN REACTION, March 13, 2009

**TONIGHT ON BBC Radio 4:  
COMEDY  
CHAIN REACTION**

**22 February - March 13 2009  
Thursday 6.30 - 7pm**

**The Radio 4 talk show with a twist.**

**Donna Noble interviews Stephen Fry, and Stephen Fry strikes back.**

"Right, so, the alien invasions. Anyone else sleep through them?" 

_laughter_

"Did you actually, as a matter of record, sleep through them?"

"Canary wharf, in Spain sleeping on a beach. I was hungover and blessedly near-comatose, Christmas 2005. Getting married, ditched at the altar, then drinking myself blotto, Christmas 2006. Out of town having a kip in a B&B for the Titanic thing, 2007. And, for the win: stomach flu that left me completely oblivious to the planet moving, 2008!" 

_applause and laughter_

"That... is absolutely the most unbelievable luck. Ever." 

"I know! If I'm ever actually around for one of these things, we know the world's really ending. And you, what, you got injured every time, right? Broken arm with the planet re-location--"

"Green-stick fracture with nerve damage. Horrifically painful. I thought I hallucinated the other planets going away, I was on so many drugs. It was mildly terrifying." 

"And you got a concussion falling off a car roof when the Christmas star thing happened?"

"Apparently. I stood on top of my car-- we were on location fifty miles from Lagos, there was nothing higher, you understand--"

"What, you couldn't find a tree to climb?"

"There are no trees in the Namibian Desert. Well, that part, anyway."

"The aliens got them."

"Most likely." 

"Bastards. Tree-stealing bastards... So you're shooting a mini-series, right? Every Fifty States of America? Going to be broadcast next year?"

"Yes, it was wonderful, apart from the odd bit of bone-breaking and getting lost in Chicago. And I understand you're appearing in a new film next year, now that your show has closed? Didn't you break some record at the West End?"

_catcalls of amusement, cheers_

"Highest attendance, one-person show, last ten years, thank-you-very-much. And yeah, we start shooting on location in Canada, next week. And I get to snog Daniel Craig. Daniel Craig!"

"You're not being a Bond girl, are you?"

"Oi! Just for that, I'm not telling you anything more, Fry!"

Ianto broke into snickers, and Gwen chuckled, then threw a spitball at him. "Concentrate! Jack'll be back any minute, we need to have this re-calibrated by then." 

"Working on it. Working on it." He chuckled under his breath, then added, "Still. You have to admit she's funny."

"She's brilliant. And it unnerves Jack for some reason, so switch the channel already, will you?"

"Switching over," Ianto agreed. There was always the podcast, later. 

Although some day he'd have to get Jack to explain why he didn't want to watch _The Donna Noble Comedy Hour._


	4. Vashta Narada. Gallifrey. Ood.

The weirdest part, after this alien invasion, was how Granddad and Mum treated Donna afterward. All worried, like, and ... nice. Nice in a way you are to people getting over being sick (which made sense, since Donna'd had the flu through the whole thing) but also nice in a way that was distinctly unnerving. Nice like you are to someone who's done something impressive. From Granddad it wasn't that strange, because he always kept her spirits up, talked to her like she was worth something. From Mum, it was very, very weird. For a while Donna thought it was a trick, or some new motivational strategy, but it didn't really stop, even if Mum slipped into her old habits of 'get something accomplished' every once in a while. 

Still, that was nice weird. The weird weird were the dreams. Names on the tip of her tongue that didn't mean anything. (Vashta Narada. Gallifrey. Ood. Oooooooood. There was a word for you.) Images of explosions. Worlds of ice. Sparkling luxury spas under deadly suns. They slipped away, they always did, but she remembered remembering them: traces and stories left over after the images and vivid worlds in her subconscious faded. And a best friend, someone who she could come back to when the world was cruel, and have tea and cookies before the next adventure. 

She started writing them down, just to keep track of them. Then organizing them, while she looked for work again. Found a place at a estate agents's office that had a lot of down-time, extra quiet while she just minded the phones. She studied for her trading exam-- always good to have something to fall back on, yeah? 

And she wrote. She couldn't help it. 

It was two years before she even had the nerve to join a writer's group, get some pointers, see what other people thought of her ideas. She was selling houses in Chiswick and doing speed-dating in pubs still, but in the rest of her time, Donna was writing. Editing. Tearing the stories apart, putting them back together. 

And dreaming. Still. Always. 

The first time, it was a tentative foray, just a hesitant attempt; submitting a short story to a science fiction magazine. The editors rejected it, but gave her feedback, and told her she had wonderful ideas.

"Please try again." 

So she did. Again. And again. And again. Something inside her wouldn't let her give it up. She knew she was being silly, but the core of it, that idea of friendship and belief that you could change the world-- it demanded to be out there, told. And finally.... 

When the publishers accepted her manuscript, it was very different from the narrative of her dreams. But she was thrilled with the cover art: a Roman villa on the slopes of Pompeii, with two people in modern dress on a hill overlooking it. 

The first printing sold out in three months; the second, in six. And the publishers offered her a contract for five more books (five!) and enough money to buy Granddad an even bigger telescope, and now she was just selling houses because it was fun, and her agent was even talking about radio plays and maybe, sometime down the line, a movie script.

"Could you make it out to Luke?" The woman in line smiled at Donna as she handed over the third edition of her first book. "My son's birthday is coming up soon. I think he'd like this one. I loved it, to be honest. You've got a real gift." 

"Thanks!" Donna grinned wide, and started to write.   
__  
To Luke -  
Dreams take you places reality can't!   
Best Wishes  
Donna Noble


	5. Jack's fault. Obviously.

The first thing to understand is that it wasn't Jack's fault. He was temporarily amnesia'd at the time. 

("Are we sure that would have stopped you?" Mickey asked, looking dubious.

"Yes." Ianto glared at him before Jack can answer. "Some things we don't mess with. The need for Retconn because of unanticipated trysts is one of them.")

So waking up in bed with Donna Noble would've been just another Saturday for Jack, if (a) they hadn't been in the middle of another Rift emergency, (b) Ianto had been there too, (c) he'd had a goddamn clue who he was, and (d) if Donna hadn't been so ridiculously helpful while fighting off the extra-dimensional squid who interrupted their second go-round. 

Because that meant Gwen and Ianto and Mickey and Martha didn't question why she went along for the ride to the Cardiff Museum for the big showdown, once they'd retrieved Jack from their B&B. A Jack who was just starting to remember his own past, and asking all the wrong questions at 75kmph.

("You really don't remember me from before? Because I could swear we were at a party together. Before the one last night, I mean."

Donna gave him a _nice try, sunshine_ look and clutched the edge of her seat, the SUV's brakes squealing as Ianto took a turn. "Um, no. You, I'd remember. Especially the thing with your tongue."

Gwen face-palmed and Martha was growing rapidly more red as Jack mused aloud. "Hunh. The Daleks? The Earth being towed across the universe? You knowing a million things about transdimensional travel?"

"Should I be wearing glasses for this fantasy, or just a white lab-coat?"

"This is so weird. And sure!"

"Not now, Jack," chorused the rest of Torchwood.)

After that, it was all screaming and running and shooting at squid and laying down chemical foam, and Donna talking trash to bad guys for long enough to distract them and save everyone, and then Jack passed out again. 

("You lot must be the most lost tourists in time in space, if you're going to _Cardiff_ on holiday--")

When he woke up two days later, no one else wanted to be the one to Retconn her. 

Although it didn't look like it was going to be necessary.

("I'm no Tosh, but when Donna gets closer to the Rift, fueling activity goes up. It's like it's getting a charge from her presence," Mickey reported. "It's pulling energy off her. Don't ask me how." 

"She should have shown signs of brain damage by now, too." Martha had her arms crossed, watching Jack carefully. "But she's not. She's fine, Jack. And she remembers-- well. She remembers saying good-bye to us, at the TARDIS. Nothing else. Not yet. But....")

Donna needed a job. Jack had (don't say position, don't say 'opening') a job that needed doing there in Cardiff. He said he thought she could handle it. 

Maybe he just didn't believe in coincidences; if he'd found her when he didn't even know who he was, well. Who was he to question it? 

She still thought they were all crazy. But. Really. It had been fun, telling those pink glowy jellyfish what she thought of them, then watching Gwen cover them with fire extinguisher goop. Why would she pass up the chance to do that again? 

Memories started to come back, week by week. Daleks first. That had left her shaking and crouched in the Hub, until Martha talked her out of there. Then another world, another time, so awful, dark and depressing. Bombs in London. Camps. Granddad crying. Mum never talking. A world where she'd never met... someone. And a huge gigantic creepy beetle, what was that about?

("Sometimes it's better not to remember, you know."

"Yeah, right, Captain Hotness. So why don't you Retconn yourself every evening after a bad one, hmm?"

"Donna Noble, you are too sharp by half. And not just your tongue.")

The thing was, when she had headaches from the memories and the nightmares, it always improved when she was in the Hub. The Rift would increase in activity; there would be a drop in temperature, and... Donna would feel better. And remember something else.

In the meantime, she was helping fight off alien invasions, orienting tourists, finding out about advanced artifacts, and surviving the bits of involuntary time travel. 

("Do you ever want to go back?"

"And have my brain dribble out my ears? I belong here now."

"That's not an answer."

"It's all you're getting. Go play with your boy now. Me and the Hub are just fine on our own.")

If she died doing this, Torchwood could have her brain, and welcome to it. They'd gotten it back for her. She figured she owed them one.


	6. Okay, yes, there was a lottery ticket.

Rodney hated, hated, hated the hospital. His mum said that it was only for a couple nights, while he was getting his tonsils out, but still. It was cold and scary, and lonely without his family there. 'Specially Mum. His mum told the best stories; stories about her and his dad, going to the beaches and bazaars in South America, and Kilimanjaro, and Mount Olympus. 

She'd been there earlier, but the school had called about Ella, saying she'd got into a fight with some boy. Mum had promised she'd be back "as soon as I've sorted out little Miss Loves-to-Fight. Be a good boy, and I'll bring you a coloring book and tell you another story when I return."

He sighed, punching his pillow, then smiled when the attending physician came in. "Hullo, Rodney. How're you feeling?" She pulled out his chart and checked the numbers, then looked up with a smile. "Getting bored yet?" 

"Been bored for ages. Mum was telling me a story, but she had to leave." 

"Ahh? What about?" She smiled and hung his chart back up, settling into the chair next to him. 

Rodney grinned and held up his coloring book. "Dinosaurs! Mum's a paleontologist. Like in _Jurassic Park_. Dad's an anthropologist. No dinosaurs. Mum promised I can go with them next year, when they go to China." 

"Oooo, that's splendid. Which one's your favorite?"

"The pteranodon! See?" He pointed at his picture, and then tilted his head. "I think they'd be red. But mum says they'd probably be more boring colors, green and brown and all." 

"There's no way to be sure, is there?" His doctor leaned her chin on her hand, and raised her eyebrows at him. "Why can't they be red?" 

"See! You have to tell my Mum that." Rodney yawned. "Can you tell me a story?"

"I don't know much about dinosaurs. Sorry." She looked thoughtful. "Hmmm. Right. Well... once upon a time, there was a girl who won the lottery."

"The whole lottery? Wow." 

"I know! The whole thing. So she went on a trip around the world. And while she was traveling, she figured out that one of the things she liked best was to help people." She paused. "Especially kids." 

Rodney grinned at her. 

"So. Even though she was very, very old to be going back to school, and she hadn't used to think she was very smart, she had enough money and time to do it slow, and do it right, so... she decided to be a doctor." She poked out a finger to tickle Rodney, and he giggled. "So now she can tell little kids when they're going to be just fine, even if they're worried about people yanking out their tonsils."

Rodney snickered, then calmed down, settling into his pillows. "I'm not as worried as I was before, Doctor Donna. Swear." 

"Good. But if you get worried again, you know to call for me, don't you?" He nodded firmly, and Doctor Donna smiled back at him, pushing his hair out of his face. "Right. I'll be there tomorrow, and so will your mum and dad, and after the operation, it's ice cream and pudding for days and days! What's to worry?"

"Dr. Noble? Is Rodney all right?" 

Rodney waved to his mum, standing in the doorway. "It's all fine, Mum. Doctor Donna was just keeping me company." 

"He's good, Mrs. Rush. No worries." She patted Rodney's mum's arm, and Mum looked relieved and a little embarrassed. Doctor Donna turned back to point at him. "But I want to hear about those dinosaurs when you get your voice back, right, Rodney?"

"Right, Doctor Donna."


	7. Generated Anomaly

"Are you sorry I came back?"

"Don't be daft."

Jenny looked up from her bed, upside down, watching Donna put on a new hat that they'd found on Zagros 7. It wasn't quite a toque, and it wasn't quite a beret; somewhere in between, and tangerine, to boot. "Only, there was that man, Lee, on the last planet..." 

Donna met her eyes in the mirror, blue to blue, and shook her head, smiling as she put on turquoise earrings. "And he'll still be there the next time we go by. And there's going to be a next time, believe you me." 

"But you couldn't stay with him." Jenny fidgeted around, and finally rolled over onto her stomach, resting her chin on her crossed arms. "Not yet. Maybe not ever." 

Donna sighed, and finally turned away from the mirror, going to sit down next to Jenny on her princess bed. "Look. I'm not saying it's perfect, all right? But me, I thought Lee was imaginary until two days ago. You think I'd trade in being on Earth, or just staying in one place, for thinking he didn't exist?"

Frowning, Jenny chewed on her lips in a way that reminded Donna of her dad. "No, but... You could've met someone to stay with, on Earth. To get married and be together, like humans do." She dropped her eyes to the carpet, her voice lowering. "You wouldn't have to be here in my TARDIS. Your brain wouldn't have to be here to keep it from exploding. You'd be safe." 

"Forget that! Or are you also forgetting how we met the first time around? And that I was traveling with your dad 'cause I wanted to?" Donna tweaked her hair over her shoulder, giving it a tug. "Jenny-the-Anomaly, Jenny-the-Genius, sometimes I can see you're very much a Time Lord. Always got to have the simple stuff explained to you. You grew me a TARDIS from scratch, almost, from that coral you got off Jack. Just to keep me sane. You think I'm leaving you for the first true love I find?" 

Jenny's smile came back, then tilted sideways as she blinked up at Donna. "We could still find my dad, you know. I'm almost certain I could have my TARDIS track his." 

Donna studied her a moment. "I figured out how to do that three months ago. And no." 

"You what? But why?" 

"Because..." Donna sighed and took her hat off, spinning it on one finger. "Because I asked him not to, and he still walled off all my memories. Took it all away. He knew I'd rather be dead, and he said 'screw it' and messed with my head anyway." 

"He saved your life."

"Yeaaaah. He did." Donna raised her eyebrows, her voice going soft. "And I'm grateful for it. So grateful. The Doctor gave me adventures and then kept me safe. I'm glad he did it. Just haven't forgiven him yet." 

Jenny blinked at her, then pouted. "I don't understand. You're contradicting yourself." 

"I'm Donna Noble. I'm the DoctorDonna. I'm unique. I can do that." She grinned and stood up, holding out her hand to Jenny. "When the time's right, we'll run into him. Just don't push it, my girl. Right?"

"Right." Jenny grabbed her hand, and slid off the bed, twisting to land on her feet. "Where do we go next?"

"Second star to the right, straight on 'til morning."


	8. Your local rep.

From the _London Times_  
July 23, 2024

Backbencher MP's Give UNIT Support: Budget Safe For Now  
Noble says newest numbers 'reasonable, fair'

In a surprise move yesterday, a majority of both Labor and Conservative MPs voted against the current party's proposal to cut additional funding to the United Nations Intelligence Team (UNIT) and re-allocate funds to army and navy sources. Spokeswoman Donna Noble, MP for Brentford and Isleworth, stated, "The need for a prepared military willing to look beyond the concerns of traditional warfare, and prepared to deal with extraordinary threats, can not be understated. A reasonable, fair budget allows us to maintain a state of readiness without compromising our security." .... 

See Related Story, A23  
_________________________________

From Temping to Representing: Member of Parliament Donna Noble   
_Nadja Warren, Special to the Times_

MP Donna Noble, Labour representative for Brentford and Isleworth, has recently become the focus of consideration for a cabinet post after the next election. Noble, 54, has been the MP for her borough since the 2016 election landslide for Labour, and has maintained consistent back-bencher status over the last eight years. Her latest politicking in aid of both UNIT and the lesser-known Torchwood Institute have lead some pundits to question her expertise, but Noble claims it's just good sense. 

"Since the beginning of this century, the encounters and incursions - not to mention invasions - of alien life have become more and more frequent. What are we going to do, just pretend it didn't happen? I'd like to see the outcome of that," she states. "We can't have the defense of the planet in the hands of national military organizations. Too much chance of bias, too much possibility for stupidity. It has to be the UN, and it has to be the experts. And they have to have the money to do it." 

Noble began her career as a temporary member of her district's school board, and a 'temp' secretary to her local MP. Mother of two, avid stargazer and cinema fan, Ms. Noble moved into politics after the political corruption scandals of 2014 convinced her that an interim representative was needed for Chiswick and its environs. With the support of her family and husband, Ms. Noble has remained as one of the most firmly entrenched MPs in Parliament, if not one to take the spotlight.

Now, however, that appears to be changing. Rumblings from within Labour indicate that Ms. Noble's star may be rising in the next election. Some are mentioning her name in conjunction with the Party Whip, others are even wondering if the possibility of yet another female Prime Minister may not be out of the question. 

"I've always considered Harriet Jones an inspiration, but no way, Charlie," Ms. Noble replies in answer to queries about her political ambitions. "Catch me taking on that job! Thankless and painful, and I've got my family to think about. I've got enough work on my plate without being Mum to the entire [censored] country." 

She pauses, considering. 

"Talk to me after the kids are out of university, yeah? Might have some time on my hands then. You never know."


	9. Tesco's: You shop, we drop.

So it was six months after the last so-called alien mess, and Donna had found a good job with a party-and-trip-planning agency ("Adventure's Our Biz!") which had gotten her a free trip to the Orkney Islands, and then a much better free trip to Lisbon, and life was going along all right. She was thinking she might look for a new job, 'cause this one wasn't a challenge any more, maybe something political, maybe entertainment. She could completely organize Emma Thompson's life, even though it probably didn't need it, but yeah, why not shoot high, if you were going to change your direction? 

Except that concept didn't really have the zing to it that it might have once, before she was sick for six months and forgot half a year. 

That still bugged her. 

Normal day, muffin and tea in hand, getting out of the car to walk over to the agency, and suddenly she's being mugged. By a crazy person.

"You need to come with me." Charm bloke, or at least he thought he was: close-cut dark hair, blue eyes, shiny smile, stupid beard, holding-- 

"What the hell kind of gun is that?" Donna tilted her head and poked at the muzzle of the whatever-it-was, all shiny and green and plastic. "Is that a squirt gun?"

"No, it's not a squirt gun," her mugger said, tone withering. "It's an acid gun. It will eat off your face. Or whatever else I point it at. So come along now, there's a nice little ape." 

"Haven't you ever heard of the word please? Please." Donna glared back at the man. "As in, _bitch, please_. I'm not going anywhere with you." 

"You'll regret it if you ~do-onn't~. Donna Noble." MuggerBoy's smile grew as Donna opened her mouth again. "The doctor will die if you don't come with me." 

"Doctor? What doctor? Are you completely barmy? And how the hell do you know my name? Right. POLICE! FIRE! HEEEELLLLLP!" And hauled off to punch him, insane mugger or no. 

Which earned her an almighty _whack_ on the head with the shiny green gun, and MuggerBoy's annoyed voice saying, "If they're not relentlessly altruistic, they're just loud."

Donna would have demanded to know who the hell he was talking about, but the fuzziness around the edges of her vision closed in and swallowed her before she could even get out a _**Me** loud? You crazy!_

 

When she woke up, head throbbing like a tympani and eyesight doing a see-saw back and forth, she knew immediately that she was inside, somewhere quiet, and oh hello, handcuffed to a hospital bed. Not her own hospital bed; she was sitting in a chair next to it, wrists manacled to the roll-bar or whatever they called it. After a few blinks, she got a look at the person lying in the bed; out cold, poor bastard. Skinny, wild bed-head, sharp ferret features looking waxy with illness. He had a zillion and one wires going into his head and chest and arms and fingers. 

"Ahhh, you've re-joined us. Thank you, Miss Noble." CrazyMugger grabbed an electrode that lead to a wire connected to ComaBoy's head, and stuck it _schllllllp!_ to her forehead. Speechless for a moment, Donna stared at him as he grabbed her fingers, and despite her wiggling, side-kicks and "Oi!"'s, fastened little finger clamps onto them. "Be grateful this isn't last century, it would be so much more difficult to extract what I need if this were 1909 instead of 2009. With a sixty percent chance of survival for you, as well. There we go!" 

"You. Are. Insane. HEEEEELLLLP!" ComaBoy didn't even blip at that, not according to all those monitors on the other side of the bed, and no one else walked into the hospital room/Mad Scientist's lair, even after Donna screeched for a full minute. Bloody hell. 

CrazyMugger smugly waited until she had to stop to catch her breath, to tell her, "Really, you'll thank me for this. Well. For the two point five hours you'll survive past it. And the doctor will thank me that I took the precaution of handcuffing you. See, I'm not completely evil. I'm bringing him back from complete brain-freeze to break a time-lock, but I'm doing it carefully!" He started flipping levers and pushing buttons on the monitoring equipment, and a few of the machines began to beep faster. And faster. And glow. 

Donna was winding up to scream again when the coma patient's mouth started to glow. Just faintly. But it was enough to make her gulp, and peer at him more closely. 

And now her fingers were glowing. _Well, isn't that just perfect._

Funny, now it was his eyelids, and his chest, and ooo, her eyesight was going

all  
 _  
funny?  
_  
The awareness of the Time Vortex tilted and unfolded like a TARDIS inside her head, for just a nanosecond:  
 _  
the Medusa cascade / Martha/ DalekCaan/ Lee/ thesongoftheOod/ JennyJenny/ ashesofPompeii/ brilliant / Roselostagain/ transducers transponders transistors can't even change/ Granddad/ somethingonyourBACK_

Donna's head had slammed into the rail in there somewhere; when she blinked open her eyes again, it was to stare at the Doctor. ComaBoy. The Martian. 

Who blinked open his eyes, and stared back at her, awareness coming back slowly. Stunned shock, confusion, apology, worry, fear, guilt. 

Donna's fingers twitched and lunged forward with the impulse to strangle him, then had to subside when she couldn't get any closer. That she had the simultaneous impulse to hug him and tell him his hair looked very stupid was just par for the course. 

"You are so, so lucky I'm cuffed to this bed, boyo," she told him, gulping for air. "Right. Who's the git with the beard?"

"Beard?" he muttered, then stared at the Mad Mugger in disbelief. "You grew it back. Again. Oh, lord, you're still evil. Donna, he's evil! Can you-- no, you're handcuffed, can't run, blast." 

"And you're still stupid. Seriously, you had a meta-crisis with _her?_ " Their captor jerked at thumb at Donna and sniffed. "I thought you had better taste. Credit where it's due though, you had her brain nicely sewn up. If I hadn't need to jump-start you from full introversion and mind-freeze, it might have lasted sixty years or so." 

"When we get out of this," Donna told the Doctor, "You'n me are going to have a nice long chat about mucking about in people's heads for other people's good, and hanging out with blokes who mug people with acid guns. Right now, we got two and a half hours before he kills us. So hop to it, mister. Time to save the day." 

The Doctor broke out into a huge smile, brighter than nuclear explosions (and she'd seen those, she knew that now). "Donna, the Master. Master, Donna." He slewed his head around to look up at the Master. "You are in so much trouble. Trust me on this."


	10. Coda: pedestrian encounters.

"Oi!"

Donna pulled the bloke mooning over the Parliament building out of traffic, and kept him from falling back over into the path of the lorry barreling down the street. "Are you blind and deaf? You could've been a spot on the pavement there, mate!" 

Skinnyboy gaped at her a moment, muttering, "What... ooo, truck, right. Splat. That's never pleasant no. I like this body unflattened, got to be more careful..." 

"You're welcome," Donna told him pointedly, starting to smile at his bewilderment. "You okay now?" 

"Right as rain." He gave her a searching look, and Donna raised her eyebrows at him, before he blinked and shook his head. "Got to go. But, um. Thanks, Donna. Saved my life. Again. Nicely done." 

"You're-- hey. How did you--" 

Then he stepped out into traffic again, ducked around a bus before Donna could even dart forward to catch his pinstripe. 

And when the bus pulled away, he was gone. 

When she got to work, she found a key in her jacket, one she'd never seen before. More like a pendant than a key, really. 

... but the rest is a story for another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in a burst of three days after my rage-reaction to the end of Season 4 Doctor Who. It made me feel *much* better, and nothing that's happened in various check-ins with Donna in canon has changed my mind about these possibilities since.


End file.
